


Connection

by catchmeafallingstar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:02:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchmeafallingstar/pseuds/catchmeafallingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where everyone has to repeat the year at Hogwarts the year after the battle due to the obvious issues with the teaching from the previous year, and the NEWTs and OWLs being cancelled. Harry and Draco have been harbouring secret crushes on each other for years but they haven’t quite realised that that’s what they’re feeling. In addition to that, Harry is now the legal guardian of Teddy Lupin and Draco is feeling guilty about the things he's done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connection

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try and post a chapter weekly, but I've got GCSEs at the moment so it might not happen.
> 
> Enjoy!

Draco’s life had become considerably more complicated and difficult in recent months. His father was dead and his mother was just not coping. He had spent a lot of time at home that summer because he didn’t like leaving her there by herself- he was worried about what she would do if he wasn’t there to check on her every day which was one reason why he was dreading returning to school, although far from the only one. Home didn’t feel like home anymore (if it ever did) and every time he entered a room he could hear the Dark Lord’s voice or a scream of someone that was murdered there. He hadn’t spoken to anyone all summer, with the exception of his mother, because if he was completely honest he really didn’t want to and it wasn’t like anyone would want to talk to him anyway.

He knew that he was very lucky to be going back to school this year. With the whole business with the Dark Lord he could have easily ended up spending the rest of his life in Azkaban with the other surviving Death Eaters. He also knew that he was going to have to work extremely hard this year and get at least two ‘Oustandings’ on his NEWTs if he wanted a job. The story that Malfoy Manor had been the headquarters of Lord Voldemort and several Death Eaters, as well as being used to hold, torture and kill prisoners of both magical and non-magical heritage had been on the front page of The Prophet the day after the Dark Lord had been killed. Consequently the name Malfoy no longer opened any doors at the Ministry. In fact, it was quite the opposite, which meant that he was facing yet another obstacle.

It was definitely strange not having his father around. He wasn’t sure if he actually missed him- which he knew was a terrible thing to say about your late father- but they had never exactly had a close father-son relationship. They hadn’t spoken very often, but Draco had always felt that Lucius’ presence managed to somehow permeate every corner of the large manor so that he felt as if he was constantly being watched and judged. As a result he had never allowed himself to do anything that Lucius could possibly disapprove of. Mostly Draco would attempt to get his Father’s approval, or even just his attention, and all that would happen is that he would get told that he was a disappointment to the name of Malfoy. 

It was strange having to make all of the decisions though. Before, Lucius had decided on everything from Draco’s clothes to what subjects he took for his NEWTs. Now he had to do everything, including all the housework as that bloody Potter had so helpfully got rid of their house elf in their second year. At that moment the soup that he was supposed to be stirring almost bubbled over and he hastily turned the heat down on the stove. He poured some into a bowl and carried it up the stairs for his mother. He smiled when he saw that she was asleep, he was sure she had been awake for at least two days, and put a charm on her soup so that it wouldn’t go cold before tiptoeing out the door and back down to the kitchen to eat his soup alone.

He hated being alone all the time. When he was younger he hadn’t minded quite so much, but now being alone meant having to think about what an awful person he had become. Now that it was all over, he could look back and reflect on just how poor his morals and decision-making skills really were. He had spent a whole year plotting to kill a man. A relatively decent man at that, although he hadn’t liked him. He hated that he had done it, even more so that he had done it just so that his father would say that he was living up to the name of Malfoy. He had literally contributed to the death of a man rather than sacrifice his reputation in the eyes of his father. And he had done petty things too, that weren’t nearly so bad but somehow they were worse because he had chosen to do them. He had bullied first years just because he could, and he had abused his power as a prefect by making life hell for anyone younger than him. In many ways he was no better than the Death Eaters that currently resided in Azkaban, or even Voldemort. That was one of the reasons why he was so surprised that they’d allowed him back to Hogwarts and not sent him to Azkaban. He hadn’t just been forced to do bad things, he had done bad things of his own free will.

Of course he would never say it out loud, but he was actually quite nervous about returning to school. Having to face all of the other students in his year now that they knew everything that he and his family had done. It didn’t help matters that Bellatrix Lestrange had been his aunt either. The pride he had once felt that his father and his aunt were so close to Voldemort had been replaced by shame and a fear of what would come as a result. He supposed that he wouldn’t be too badly treated by most of the Slytherins in his year, seeing as a lot of them were in a similar position, but they weren’t exactly going to jump up at the opportunity to befriend him either. And he doubted that he would retain either his prefect status or his place on the Slytherin quidditch team. Well, he thought, he would find out when his Hogwarts letter arrived. He poured the rest of his soup down the sink and went up to his bedroom. He lay on his bed and looked up at the ceiling, following the pathways of the cracks. Having been at home all summer, he had read every book in the library that he deemed worthy of being read and looked in every room that had been out of bounds when his father was still alive. He had now run out of things to do and he had nothing and no one to distract him from his growing boredom and guilt. Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

Harry had spent the summer partly at the Burrow and partly redecorating number twelve, Grimmauld Place with Ron, George and Ginny. Hermione had sometimes helped as well, although she had spent a few weeks sorting out everything with her parents. They had been initially angry once she had lifted the memory charm, but they had eventually understood that it had been for their own safety. He knew that things were far from perfect but they were working on it. His relationship with Ginny had changed quite a lot. Of course they were still good friends and there was nothing awkward or forced about their friendship, but after everything that had happened neither of them had felt like they were in the right place for a relationship. They had both lost too much for everything to just go back to how it had been before. This decision had pleased Ron greatly. While he hadn’t had a problem with Harry and Ginny being together, he had still found it a bit weird when his best friend and his little sister kissed in front of him.

Harry had also been getting used to looking after a baby, since he was now the legal guardian of Teddy Lupin. It was a massive change, being completely responsible for another person, but it did give him something else to focus on and distract himself. Luckily Mrs Weasley had been very happy to help, since Harry had been completely clueless, and Teddy was now smiling and laughing and sitting up and all the other things babies were supposed to do. Teddy’s metamorphmagus condition was surprisingly useful when looking after him, because his hair tended to change colour depending on what he was feeling as he didn’t have control over it yet. Once Harry had realised which colour meant which emotion, he could quite easily understand what Teddy wanted, a definite improvement from the first month where he had screamed almost constantly. 

Of course the aftermath of the battle had been hard for everyone. Harry had attended so many funerals in the month after that he had worn out his only suit. Fred’s and Lupin and Tonk’s had been the worst, and he had been most affected by those losses. He couldn’t help feeling that he was responsible for a lot of these deaths, but Mrs Weasley had been quick to assure him that it was not the case. That didn’t make the feeling go away completely though. He and Ron had been helping George get back into Weasley Wizard Wheeze’s as well, although it would never be the same with Fred gone. Angelina was good for him though, and she was encouraging him to keep inventing weird and wonderful things as well as managing the shop on Diagon Alley. Despite everything that had happened, though, Harry wasn’t feeling too bad about the coming year. This year would have no weird mysteries, no random scar pain and visions, and no worrying about who Voldemort would kill next. Mrs Weasley had agreed to look after Teddy during term time so he didn’t have to worry about that either. He was also hoping that it would help her to work through her grief if she had something to focus on other than the aftermath of everything. This year he would just be focusing on schoolwork (for once), because he really did want to get good enough grades in his NEWTs that he could become an auror without having to use his fame to get him a job. He wanted to get a job because the employer thought he would be good at it, not just because he had been ‘the boy who lived’. And maybe he would find some time for quidditch too. Would he still be the Gryffindor captain? He supposed he would find out when their Hogwarts letters came. It was just a relief to know that that segment of his life, where he was the Chosen One who saved the World, was over.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of crying, and he got up from the sofa to go and get Teddy, who had obviously woken up from his nap. He picked him up and carried him to the kitchen to make him a bottle, since his hair was green, which meant he was hungry. He had never thought he would end up being a single parent at eighteen but here he was. Well obviously he wasn’t actually a parent, he was Teddy’s godfather, but it was the same kind of thing. He checked the time on his watch as he sat down with his godson; he had about two hours before Ron and Hermione would arrive. They were going to stay with him for the last week of the summer holidays because Grimmauld Place was closer to King’s Cross and Diagon Alley than the Burrow. It was also quieter and less crowded. It was quite nice to have his own place now, especially since they had finally managed to remove the painting of Mrs Black and all the other weird shit that had been there. All the rooms of the house now looked actually inhabitable, and he thought it would be quite a nice place for Teddy to grow up once Harry finished school and was able to look after him full-time.

It was hard looking after a four-month-old baby, with the lack of sleep and having no free time, but Harry himself knew what it was like to feel unwanted as a child, and he wanted to be there for Teddy in the way that Sirius hadn’t been able to be there for him. He was compiling a photo album actually, of pictures of Remus and Tonks. It was a similar idea to the one Hagrid had given him of his own parents at the end of his first year at Hogwarts. He noticed that Teddy had gone quiet and registered the pale lilac colour of his hair, which signalled tiredness. As he walked up the stairs to get his godson ready for bed he thought to himself how weird it was having such a calm and domestic life, considering that three months ago he had been concerned about the safety of the entire Wizarding World.

Just as he had got Teddy off to sleep there was a whooshing sound from the living room, which signalled the arrival of Ron and Hermione. It was followed by a bump and some loud swearing from Ron, who was quickly scolded by Hermione. Harry hastily descended the stairs before a full argument broke out and woke up Teddy.

“Harry! We wondered were you were.”

“I was just upstairs putting Teddy to bed.”

“Look at you all fatherly.” Ron punched him on the arm affectionately.

“Fuck off.”

“Well Harry, I for one think you’re doing an excellent job and that certain people need to appreciate how difficult it can be looking after a young child.”

“Thanks, Hermione. Alright, who wants a butterbeer? And should I order pizza?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

He went and got three bottles of butterbeer from the fridge and rang Domino’s to order the pizza. (He had added some Muggle features like a telephone to Grimmauld Place because they really were useful). They all sat on the sofa. It seemed that there was loads to catch up on, even though it had been less than a week since they had seen each other. It seemed like George and Mr Weasley had decided to work on creating a new flying car, and had unsuccessfully attempted to hide it from Mrs Weasley, who had gone ballistic when she found out. Harry didn’t really have any exciting news to tell, except the other day when he had taken Teddy to the park and he had forgotten to put a muggle-filter charm on him. A lady had stopped him to ask why on earth his son’s hair was rainbow striped and changing colour and he had had to do a hasty memory charm to sort out the whole situation, as well as informing her that he wasn’t actually his son. The whole situation had been quite stressful.

“Our Hogwarts letters better arrive soon, there’ll be no point in going to Diagon Alley tomorrow if we haven’t got a list of what to buy.”

“That’s a good point mate.”

“It’s going to be strange, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Going back to Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, ‘specially since Dumbledore isn’t headmaster anymore. I mean, I’m sure McGonagall does a great job and stuff, but it just won’t be the same.”

“It’s going to be so tense with the Slytherins as well. At least half of them must have parents in Azkaban now.”

“Uggh they’re all gonna hate me. If I’m on the quidditch team I’m gonna spend half the year in the hospital wing from Slytherin induced injuries.”

“What do you mean, if?”

“I don’t have a guaranteed place, Ron.”

“Yeah but you basically do. You’re amazing at quidditch and you’re the chosen one, mate. Course you’ll be on the team. It’s me you should be worrying about.”

“You should have more confidence in your abilities.”

“You think so, Hermione?”

“Of course I do, Ron.”

Harry could sense that a Ron and Hermione snogging session was imminent. He hastily stood up.

“Okay guys, I’m just going to collect the pizza.”

That was one of the disadvantages of Number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Muggles couldn’t see it, even though the security wasn’t quite as high as it had once been, so he couldn’t get pizza delivered straight to the door. He had got used to apparating now though, so it wasn’t too inconvenient. He thought that if he apparated directly into Domino’s it might draw unnecessary attention so he went to a small alleyway that was a block away and walked in. He had attracted enough unwanted attention in his life from the Wizarding World that he actually quite enjoyed being in the Muggle World because no one knew who he was so they left him alone. And he had kind of grown up in it, so he found a lot of Muggle things quite natural. Once he had collected and paid for the pizzas he walked back to the alleyway, opting to apparate to the hallway rather than directly into the living room, in order to give Ron and Hermione an opportunity to separate themselves.

“Harry! Our letters and booklists have arrived!”

“Oh good, I thought we were going to have to put off going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Do we need many new books or anything?” He asked as Ron handed him his letter.

“Nah, just Standard Book of Spells Grade Seven and Confronting the Faceless: Volume II.”

“But obviously we’re going to need to buy new robes and stock up on potion ingredients and parchment and things.”

“I might get a new owl. I really miss Hedwig and I do need to send mail.”

 

“Yeah good idea, mate.”  
Harry had been surprisingly affected when he had lost Hedwig, and it had taken him a while to get over it. She had been his companion during the hellish summers he had spent with the Dursleys, and often his only connection to the Wizarding World outside of Hogwarts. For about a month he had even said that he would never get another owl, but now that he had considered the practicalities of adult life, especially with a baby as well, he was going to need one to deliver his post, even though it did seem a bit final.

He opened his letter and was relieved to find that he was still the quidditch captain for Gryffindor. Hmmm, he thought as he realised that he hadn’t had much time for flying recently, he would have to make sure he got in some practice before he held the trials to ensure that he was actually worthy of his position as seeker on the team. It was kind of comforting that his biggest responsibility was the success of a school sports team rather than the safety and future of the entire magical, and some of the muggle, population.

They had a good evening, on the whole. Just eating pizza, drinking butterbeer and discussing what the next year was going to be like. They would finally get to have their quiet year at Hogwarts. Although, if Harry was honest, it probably wouldn’t be that quiet. Even the parts of his school career that hadn’t been shadowed by Voldemort had been pretty exciting at the best of times. But this year he was actually going to focus on his studies, he didn’t want to rely on his famous hero status to get himself a job. That wouldn’t be fair on all those other people who would be just as good as (if not better than) he would at being an Auror. And Gryffindor were going to win the Quidditch Cup if he had anything to do with it.

He showed Ron and Hermione to a spare bedroom and then sleepily but contentedly got ready for bed, where he fell asleep almost instantly.

Draco was abruptly jerked awake by a sharp rapping on his window. He looked round to see a large, majestic-looking tawny owl with a large envelope tied to its leg. He recognised it as a Hogwarts owl carrying the letter that contained his list of required books and equipment. He opened the window, untied the letter and sent the owl off again as the apprehension began to pool in his stomach. As he sat down to read the letter he began to make a mental list of the things he was going to need. He really did not want to go to Diagon Alley. People were not going to receive him kindly and he was becoming increasingly worried about their reactions. He had always acted aloof and as if other people’s opinions hadn’t affected him, but that was when he had been confident in his superior status. Now he understood that the only reason people had ever treated him with respect was because they feared his father and wanted to remain on his good side, not because they actually liked him. He wasn’t entirely sure what would happen now, but he expected a mixture of being insulted and being ignored.

He dropped the letter on the floor and lay back on his bed, wondering how the hell he was going to get through this year. The thoughts of all the awful things he had done and endorsed crept their way back into the forefront of his mind and he drifted back into a fitful sleep.

When Harry awoke the next morning the house was completely silent, which was now a rare occurrence, and the sun was streaming through the window in a way which, in Harry’s opinion, was far too cheerful for so early in the morning. He went into Teddy’s room, where he found the four-month-old kicking his legs happily, although Harry noticed that his rainbow striped hair was beginning to turn predominantly green. He quickly picked him up, bouncing him gently, and took him down to the kitchen to get a bottle ready quickly. He really didn’t want any screaming first thing in the morning. He laughed to himself about how his priorities had changed in the past few months.

Ron and Hermione came down a little while later, when Teddy’s hair had returned to its usual happy shade of rainbow. They looked as if they were still half-asleep although they were both dressed. Harry smirked a little when he saw they were holding hands. He had always known they would end up together, but it had taken a war to push them into finally making the first move.

“Morning, guys. Coffee?”

“Thanks mate.”

“Yes, thank you Harry.”

He poured them both a cup one-handedly, being careful not to spill boiling liquid on his godson, and they all sat down to drink their coffee. Ron and Hermione had spent so much time at his house over the summer that they knew where everything was kept, so he left them to organise their own breakfast as Teddy began a round of his current favourite game ‘pull Harry’s hair’ which was annoying but was definitely an improvement on ‘drop Harry’s glasses on the floor’. There was a limit on how many reparo spells he was prepared to do in one day.

“Okay, we need to drop Teddy off at The Burrow in about an hour, so is it okay if you guys watch him while I have a shower?”

He was a bit nervous about leaving Teddy for the whole term; obviously he trusted Molly Weasley but he still worried that Teddy would be really confused and upset or forget who he was or something.

“Of course, Harry.”

“Okay Teddy, go to Aunty Hermione. I’ll be back soon.”

He handed her the baby and went upstairs to get ready.

Draco slowly opened his eyes, squinting in the bright sunlight. He had clearly forgotten to shut his curtains after the impromptu visit from the owl last night. He sighed and slowly pulled himself out of bed, before stripping off his clothes and going into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and managed to find a towel while he waited for the water to heat up.

As he stood there under the hot spray he absentmindedly crept his hand lower down and began lazily pumping his cock, feeling it harden under the touch. The same face that did every time crept to the forefront of his mind. Stupid fucking Potter. He hated the idiot scarhead so much, but for some reason he always appeared in the centre of Draco’s imagination at these moments. And the way that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Potter made him hate himself a little bit more. He was a Gryffindor, a half-blood and a blood traitor and the selfish bastard couldn’t even let him have a wank in peace and quiet. He needed it, though, so he kept going. That was the worst bit. He scrubbed his body hard, until his pale skin was red, as if the soap would wash away the shame and guilt. Of course it didn’t. At least he no longer had to worry about his father finding out about this disgusting part of him. There was a reason he had bothered learning occlumency. He was ashamed of his family and of himself, but he didn't want to be disowned.

He got dressed into what he hoped were inconspicuous black clothes and dried his hair with his wand, grabbing his Hogwarts letter and locking his bedroom door on his way out.

Next, he slid a small bag of gold into his jacket pocket and retrieved his wand from his bedside table. He left a note for his mother, should she get out of bed for long enough to notice his absence, which was quite unlikely, before making his way to the drawing room, which had the largest fireplace and was where the floo powder was kept. He stowed his wand in his inside pocket, unable to stop himself from sparing a thought to how many times Potter had probably performed the exact same motion countless times during the months he had borrowed Draco’s wand. He had been surprised when Potter had come up to him after the battle and handed it back to him, and even more so that he had once again seemed to be its master. He shook his head in another pathetic attempt to clear it of thoughts of Potter, threw the floo powder into the fireplace and stepped in, clearly stating where he wanted to end up.

An hour (ish) later, Hermione, Ron, Harry and Teddy were finally ready. Harry was a bit concerned considering this would be Teddy’s first journey by Floo powder, but Ron assured him that this was how most wizarding families travelled and that he himself had been travelling by fireplace since he was even younger. Reassured but still slightly apprehensive, Harry held Teddy very firmly and went first.

Mrs Weasley came into the kitchen as soon as they arrived, cooing over Teddy and insisting that Harry was too thin and needed feeding up. Ron and Hermione followed him out of the hearth soon after, and then Ginny came in, presumably to inquire about the commotion. She came over to Teddy as soon as she saw him, who took a gentle tug on some of her hair the second she was close enough. After greeting her, Harry handed over his colourful godson. He approached Mrs Weasley.

“Here is a bag with all his supplies in, and here is a list with what his different hair colours mean.” He could see Ron smirking at his parental fussing but he didn’t care.

“Thanks, dear. I’m sure we’ll all be fine here; you three go and have a good time. No need to hurry back, Teddy will be fine.” He hoped that the distraction would give her something to take focus away from her grief.

“Thanks again, Molly.”

“Really Harry, it’s no trouble.”

She shooed them back towards the fireplace and they said their goodbyes. Ginny took one of Teddy’s tiny hands and made him wave at them. When he saw Harry walk into the hearth he seemed to realise they were leaving, because his hair quickly turned an unnaturally bright shade of scarlet and he screwed up his face as he started to scream. Ginny started to bounce him gently to no avail.

“Maybe I shouldn’t-“ He found himself worrying that if he left it would give Teddy some kind of absent guardian complex type thing but Mrs Weasley’s reassuring voice brought him back to his rational mindset.

“Harry, just go. We’re perfectly capable of handling this. I’ll see you this evening, you can stay for dinner.”

“Thanks Molly.”

“You’re never going to get your supplies bought if you stand there dilly-dallying in the fireplace all day.”

“Alright, I’m going.”

He quickly seized a handful of floo powder and threw it into the grate before he changed his mind. Teddy would probably calm down in a minute and he really did need to buy some new stuff. He seriously doubted that his school robes would fit him and he wasn’t entirely sure if he still had them, actually. And he would need all the boring things like quills and parchment and ink.  
He managed to step out of the fireplace onto the hearthrug of the Leaky Cauldron almost gracefully. Well, he didn’t fall over, which was a good start. He stepped out of the way just in time for Ron and Hermione to follow him out of the fireplace.

Draco was keeping his head down as he walked along Diagon Alley, desperately trying to avoid attention and complete his errands as quickly as possible. It was easy to remain hidden in the bustling hordes of people that had returned to the street, but it was difficult to navigate around shoppers with his eyes fixed on the ground. He ducked into a doorway to decide where to go first when who did he see but the famous scarhead himself, with Granger and the Weasel no less. Those two were holding hands and clearly engaged in conversation, but Potter was looking around at the shop windows as he passed them. Their eyes locked for a second and Draco saw a look of shock pass over his face.

They both turned away and Draco decided to start at the opposite end of the street from where the trio were headed. That was one school reunion he didn’t need.

Harry elbowed Ron to get his attention.

“What?”

“Guess who I just saw lurking in a doorway.”

“Who?”

“Malfoy.”

“The ferret? I’m surprised he’s still allowed to show his face. How did he not get sent to Azkaban?”

“Probably because he was still at Hogwarts when all that stuff happened.”

“Yeah, but still. He lived in the same house as Voldemort for like, a year.”

“Reckon he’s up to something?”

“Oh for goodness sake Harry. I’m not trawling around Diagon Alley under your invisibility cloak so you can stalk Draco Malfoy on a whim that he might be up to no good because he looked at you funny. Again, I might add.”

“Well I was right the last time. And I wasn’t stalking him.”

“Yes , but there have been times when you haven’t been. Honestly, if you’d put as much effort into your History of Magic essays as you did into thinking of what schemes Malfoy could possibly be planning, you’d have passed your OWL with an Outstanding.”

“She’s got a point, mate.”

Harry scowled.

“It was weird though.”

“What?”

“His face.”

“No change there then.”

“No, I mean usually he always has this expression like he owns whatever ground he’s walking on, but this time he looked different. Kind of…sad.”

“Since when have you given a shit about Malfoy’s feelings?”

Harry had to admit that Ron had a point there. He quickly changed the subject before things got weird.

“Oh look, we’re at Eyelop’s. I need a new owl.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look behind Harry’s back, but decided to drop it for now.

Draco, at the other end of the street, decided to start in Flourish and Blott’s. He only needed one new book for school but he thought he might pick up some other new books to combat his ever-increasing boredom at the manor. He headed for the education section first and couldn’t help thinking about his encounter with Potter. Well, it wasn’t really much of an encounter; they had acknowledged each other’s existence. Still, it seemed a bit more than that. Oh for Merlin’s sake why was he dwelling on this? It was fucking Potter for fuck’s sake. Why would he even want to have a moment with Potter? He finally managed to locate ‘Confronting the Faceless: Volume II’ and decide to distract himself by thinking that he would like to know more about dragons, and attempting to immerse himself in several books on the subject. He was unsuccessful, but in the end decided to purchase three books on dragons and one on acromantulas.

As Harry examined the many different species of owl for sale in Eyelop’s owl Emporium he couldn’t stop Malfoy’s face from popping into his mind. He took it down to being due to the shock of seeing an expression on his face other than arrogance, spite or malice. It was weird though. He hadn’t looked simply sad, it was a mixture of things. Sadness, yes, but also loneliness, shame, even fear. He wondered if-

“Harry!”

He turned around, startled.

“You’ve been staring at this owl for a full five minutes. Is it the one you want?”

He looked at the eagle owl in front of him. It was quite big and not at all friendly looking.

“No.”

“Well can you hurry up? We really need to get going if we’re going to get everything and Ron’s complaining that he wants lunch.”

“Alright.”

He was going to just buy a boring barn owl and be done with it, it wasn’t like any owl would ever replace Hedwig anyway, but then he caught sight of a flash of red and gold in the back corner of the shop. He looked again, and there, perched on top of one of the cages, was a majestic looking phoenix. He went over to it and the phoenix looked at him in a way that made him feel like it understood things. He looked back at it, and it suddenly flew upwards, circling once around the shop before landing on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hermione!”

“Yes Harry?”

“I’m buying a phoenix.”

“Are you sure Harry? They don’t exactly make easy pets…”

“It landed on my shoulder. It wants me to buy it."

“Well, phoenixes are intelligent, as well as fully sentient, so you're probably right. Ron and I will wait outside, okay?”

“Okay.”

He walked up to the counter and the phoenix stayed on his shoulder. He handed over the money and the cashier gave him his change.

“Oh good. I’m glad she’s finally found someone she likes. Lovely bird, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s a she then? I wasn’t sure. And what do you mean, someone she likes?”

“Phoenixes won’t go with just anyone. They’re intelligent creatures, they choose who they go with, bit like wands. Ever had one before?”

“Not my own, no.”

“What’re you thinking of calling her?”

“I was thinking maybe Ignis.”

“Seems fitting. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

Harry exited the shop to find Ron and Hermione in the sunshine outside.

“Woah mate. You said owl.”

“Change of plan.”

“Fair enough. What’s it called then?”

_“She’s_ called Ignis.”

“Oh that’s a good name.”

“Thanks Hermione.”

“Lunch then?”

“Lunch.”

They walked a few doors down to a café.

Draco continued to be distracted as he did all of his shopping. He was starting to get very irritated; he kept walking in the wrong direction and going into the wrong shops. He had been coming to this bloody street since his infancy and then all of a sudden some idiot with a scar on his forehead comes along and everything goes out the window.

For Harry it was much the same. He kept zoning out and wasn’t doing a great job of being involved in the conversation, but luckily he managed to pass it off as being stressed about school next week. The reality was that he couldn’t stop thinking about Malfoy’s stupid pointy blonde face. And it was really pissing him off. He was a bloody death eater and they had never liked each other or even had a conversation. And he couldn’t be up to anything, the death eaters had been shut down, and anyway the ministry were keeping tabs on anyone who had even the slightest involvement. So why was he still thinking about him?

Dinner at the Weasley’s was nowhere near as much fun as usual. It was quite sad how smoothly it went with no pranks from Fred and George. Obviously the food was amazing, as Mrs Weasley’s cooking always was, but he was still distracted and he just wanted some time on his own to clear his head and think things through. Everyone seemed enamoured with Ignis though, especially Teddy. He had taken one look at her and squealed excitedly as he reached upwards. When she flew down to him and let him pet her feathers, his hair had changed colour to mimic her red and gold plumage, to everyone's delight. Even Ron admitted that it was cute. Still, he excused himself earlier than he would normally have stayed; saying that he was tired and that Teddy really needed to go to bed. He still had a certain someone on his mind.

Over the next week he went to great lengths to try and distract himself from Malfoy and his stupid pointy face. He packed his trunk, and this time he actually folded his clothes and there was some sort of order in how he put things in. It was strange to think that last time he had packed his trunk for school he had done it a lot faster and a lot messier before going on a mission with Dumbledore. He cleaned the entire house, which took ages because 12 Grimmauld Place was not exactly a small house, as well as the fact that he hated housework. He’d had plenty of practice at the Dursley’s though. He also packed all of Teddy’s things, and colour coded his clothes. Then he arranged all the items in the fridge into alphabetical order. And in between all of this he was looking after Teddy, taking Teddy out in his pram, playing with Teddy, reading to Teddy, and feeding Teddy. At the end of the day, he would have long, one-sided conversations with Ignis about the most likely reason for why he kept thinking about Malfoy. His most recent theory was that it was some kind of joke hex. Why else would he be so concerned (of course he wasn’t really concerned he just couldn’t think of a better word) as to why he looked so sad and lonely?

As Draco packed and organised all his things he continued to think about Potter’s irritating face. It was weird, he thought, how he had looked at him in Diagon Alley. For the first time, he realised, they had looked at each other without contempt. That fact really should not have made Draco as happy as it did. It confused him as well though, because surely Potter had even more reason to hate him than before after everything that had transpired over the last year. Especially since their hatred went further than simple inter-house rivalry. Although, was it hatred anymore? Draco wasn’t sure if he hated Potter. Obviously he didn’t like him, but that didn’t mean he hated him either. Why did they even hate each other anyway, aside from the house thing? He sighed and returned to his packing. Perhaps it was just childish house rivalry.

It was the last night before he had to go to Hogwarts. Harry lay back on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. Teddy was in bed; Ignis had gone hunting. Unfortunately, that meant he now had no distractions. He really wasn’t sure what it was about that face that he couldn’t get out of his head. It was just so alien to see an expression of anything other than smug superiority on Malfoy’s face. It wasn’t just his face either. Normally he stood with his head up and his back straight, but when Harry had seen him in that doorway, his shoulders had been slouched and he had his head down- until he had looked up and their eyes had met. It was his eyes that showed everything. The sadness, the loneliness, the shame, the fear, and there was something else. Guilt. Not the kind of guilt that means that what you did didn’t turn out quite how you planned and you really wish it hadn’t happened, but the kind that means that you never really wanted to do it in the first place. Maybe Malfoy had had other motivations for joining the death eaters than his own personal gain. Maybe he hadn’t been given a choice.

Harry stopped his thoughts in their tracks for a second to reflect. Somewhere along the way he had spent enough time looking at Malfoy to memorise his body language. He had also managed to work out how he was feeling just by looking into his eyes. And now he was empathising with a former death eater. He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. Well fuck.

Draco had a sudden thought as he got into bed. Maybe the reason that he was feeling less hatred for Potter was because of those months when Potter had been using his wand. A wizard’s wand was one of their most personal possessions. So if someone else used his wand for a prolonged period of time, even if they had become the rightful master of the wand by disarming him, they would still somehow be connected to him. And he would be connected to them. That would explain the way he had looked at him. It would also explain why the scarface was present in his mind so often these days. Maybe Potter was feeling this unusual lack of contempt and hatred as well. He hadn't yet decided if that made the situation better or worse.

As he tried to sleep he found his mind wandering back to his feelings of guilt. He really wished he hadn’t done a lot of those things, and they hadn’t felt like the right thing to do even when he had been a death eater. He used to associate himself with those people with pride. He shuddered and involuntarily scratched at his left forearm. After the war the ministry had magically removed the dark marks from all the death eaters that hadn’t ended up in Azkaban, which was mostly the young ones like him. Unfortunately, the magic used to brand the mark was so powerful that a faint pink outline had remained, although he was told that it would fade with time. It was a constant reminder of everything and he hated it. He knew that the principles that the Dark Lord had based his new world order on were flawed anyway, but he had still gone along with it. Whatever He Who Must Not Be Named said, he knew that mudbloods weren’t necessarily stupid because of that bitch Granger, and he had never even met a muggle. His parents had always told him that they were stupid and primitive, but he didn’t think that they had ever met muggles either so how did they know? He supposed it was just prejudice, but it troubled him. It meant that everything he had done was even worse. Fuck, he was so stupid.


End file.
